Sound Mind and Sound Body
by Auburn Red
Summary: Four Weddings and a Funeral prequel. It was Charles who first noticed something...different about his baby brother
1. Chapter 1

Sound Mind And Sound Body

By Auburn Red

I do not own these characters. They are the products of Richard Curtis. I'm just borrowing them just to get my jollies and answer some provocative questions and while away a snowy Sunday. I however created Will and Emma Carton (and gave Charles and David their surnames) as well as my own little theories about their background.

Chapter One: Sound Of Silence

It was Charles who first noticed something...different about his baby brother.

He first noticed it when he was about to go outside to play football with his mates. He reached into the closet for his footer shoes, reaching for them lodged between two pairs of boots and a hat box. He pulled his shoes out when the contents of the lower half of the wardrobe fell down on top of the young boy.

"Bugger," he yelled underneath the large pile. He hid underneath for the pile to determine whether his napping brother or ill mother might have heard anything. He sighed relieved for a second before his mother's voice called, "Charles what is it that?"  
>The 10 year old winced. "Nothing mum," he called.<p>

"Would you make me some tea then look in on your brother to see if he also heard 'nothing,'?" Mum called. That's strange, Charles thought, wouldn't David have heard that by now if Mum did? Charles sighed and nodded throwing his shoes back in the closet throwing the stuff back inside. They were currently between housekeepers after Mum fired the last one during one of her "moods," so she depended on her son a lot when he wasn't at school and Dad was at work. Charles shrugged as he walked into the kitchen and watched the tea kettle boil on top of the oven.

In his mind, Charles often thought of his mother as three separate people and there was no telling which one she would be. There was Mum, the fun loving mother who always was interested in one project after another; volunteer work, gardening, painting, right now Eastern meditation practice and yoga and often took her son on outings or returned from Selfridges or Harrods her arms full of bags, always talking a mile a minute. Then there was Mummy, the sad woman who would often lie in bed until noon still in her night things, reading her Jackie Collins novels and watching telly, her eyes filled with tears. Then there was Mother, the most frightening of the three, the woman who would shout and throw things. He remembered last week when Charles was dusting the antiques in the sitting room and accidentally broke one of her vases. His arms still hurt from the punishment Mother gave him.

The young boy let the tea seep as he prepared the sugar and honey that his mother loved so much to go with it. He then walked upstairs tip toeing and carrying the tea cup as though it were an offering, slowly and methodically. He knocked on the door, "Come in Charlie," Mum said. Mummy, Charles thought to himself with relief. He opened the door to see his mother lying in bed in her pink robe and night gown, her long curly hair askew over her body. "Thank you, darling," Mum said as she reached for two yellow pills and swallowed them with her tea. "Go and see how David is doing."

"He'd be awake by now, if he heard me wouldn't he?" Charles glanced over in the direction of David's bedroom.  
>"Don't be smart," Mum warned, her voice becoming scary low. Charles nodded and ran in the direction of David's room before she could become Mother.<p>

Charles leaned on to his brother's bedroom door. He opened the door tripping over his unlaced shoes and knocked into a nearby dresser sending some stuffed animals and plastic toys flying to the ground. "What was that?" Mum asked annoyed, but her voice slurred. The tranquilizers were going into effect, Charles realized, she will be sleeping soon.

"Nothing again mum," Charles said. "I'll clean it up." He promised. He started picking up a few of David's toys at random and glanced over at him confused. "You must have heard it that time," he said. But sure enough his brother was fast asleep. Curiously, Charles put his fingers in his mouth and made a face, then he made a monster like growl right in front of David, but still his brother slept. The little boy shrugged and tried again giggling and feeling really goofy. He then picked up a musical toy and played up to David's ear and to no reaction. Charles was about to try again when he heard a voice speak in a soft but very firm voice, "Charles Arthur Carton, what am I going to do with you?"

Charles looked up to see his father standing at the doorway still dressed in his white coat and hospital I.D. tag. He had been working a split shift since Mum's moods had become more frequent and there was no one at home to watch the boys. He returned early and was about to go to his bedroom to catch a kip for a few hours, when he saw his older son leaning over his infant son's crib and making a nuisance of himself. "What in the world do you think that you are doing?" Dad asked walking over to David's bed. "Can you at least avoid causing trouble for once?"

"I'm sorry," Charles said.

"You might have woken your brother up with that racket," Dr. Carton whispered as he smoothed David's hair.

"But I didn't," Charles objected. "Besides, he couldn't hear me anyway."

"Nonsense, of course he can hear you," Dad said barely paying attention as he observed the baby up and down.

"No he couldn't," Charles argued. "I went right in his face and he didn't hear a sound."

Will Carton stopped and looked squarely at his son. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yeah," Charles said. Will then turned to his son and snapped his fingers right into his ears.

"David," he spoke in his normal voice. Then tried raising his voice, Charles noticed he sounded more worried. He then did as his son did and turned on a few of his toys playing them right in the boy's ears but David gave no sound. He then reached down and tapped David on the shoulders and gently shook him awake. This time David awoke and let out a loud scream and wail obviously upset at being awakened, almost to Charlie like he was making up for all the crying that he should have done earlier.

Will picked up his infant son and held him close whispering words of comfort. "Is your mother in her room?" he asked. "Yeah, I gave her some tea and she took her medicine," Charles said.

"Of course she did," Will muttered annoyed more to himself than to his son. He then walked downstairs to take out his first aid kit. David continued to sob as his father put the baby into his high chair.

"Could you distract him please while I examine him?" Will asked. Charles took out a small pen light that he had been given in school and held it up to the baby, while his father took his temperature.

David stopped crying for a minute to look at the light following it up and down. "Here, Davey," Charles said. "Isn't it shiny?" Charles put the light next to the baby as David reached for it. Charles then closed his hand so David couldn't see it. Then he held it in front of the baby again. David reached for it and Charles closed his hand over the light again. "Ah, ah," David said smiling as Charles made it appear once more.

"Well he can see, that's a relief," Dad said as he inspected the infant's ears. First he took his temperature and found it to be normal. He then took out his otoscope and turned it on. "Charles did you see your brother put anything in his ears, even his fingers?" he asked.

"No, Dad," Charles answered. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, my son," Will said as he looked inside the baby's ears. He couldn't find any blockage in his eardrums. He turned off the otoscope and placed it back in his first aid kit. "I have to make a phone call. I'll be right back."  
>He called the hospital where he worked reaching the office of his colleague, Dr. Patricia Givens. "Hi, Tricia, it's Will. I know it's a Sunday, but I need to see you right away. It's one of my sons. No not Charlie, David. Yes, the baby. As soon as possible please. I'll be there, Cheers." He hung up the phone and walked over to the two brothers. He took David out of his high chair. "Charlie, I need to take David to hospital. Do you want to come?" Charles was confused and nervous. What was going on with his brother? But he nodded.<p>

Dr. Givens turned off the oto-acoustic test and faced the father and son. David wiggled on the hospital bed between the dividers.

"Well I have...news," she said. "He has congenital deafness. Specifically he has less than 10% hearing in his right ear and almost no hearing in his left."

Will lowered his head sadly. "I was afraid of that," he said. David shifted in the bed. Will leaned over and picked the infant up balancing him on his lap.

Charles looked at his brother. He felt like he was going to cry. "That means he can't hear right? Is he going to be that way forever?"

Dr. Givens nodded and she smiled what Charles liked to call "_The Clangers_ smile" which many of his dad's co-workers, actually many adults, had when they spoke to him, wide, toothy, and raise their voices to a higher level, treating Charles as though he were a little kid who still watched shows like, _The Clangers_. "He will, but when he's older he can be fitted with hearing aids that will let him hear slightly better. You can also learn to speak with your hands. It's like learning a secret language, won't that be fun?"

"I know what sign language is," Charles answered. Dr. Givens blushed embarrassed. "I just don't know how to speak it."

"Well I guess we'll just have to learn then won't we," Will said determined in an almost forced cheerfulness. "Charlie, would you wait outside for a bit? I want to finish things up with Dr. Givens." Charles looked warily and somewhat nervous from his brother to his father. Dad nodded and motioned his head towards the outside, and then the boy left the room.

"I blame myself," Will said when he and his colleague were alone. "I should have seen this sooner. David was always so quiet, nothing seemed to bother him. Emma and I were grateful for that. You see, Charles was born prematurely and he was often ill, rather fussy.I don't believe either of us got a lick of sleep for the first six months." Dr. Givens smiled giving a slight chuckle. Will's voice dropped. "When David was born we were quite relieved that he turned out so quiet. He would never react unless he had to. He was...no trouble at all." In an unguarded moment, Will kissed his son on the top of his head. David shifted in reaction. "I feel like such a fool to have not recognized it sooner."

"You can't blame yourself, Will," she said. "Not all children react to sound the same way. I've had parents come with children all the way to their first year in nursery school before they realized that they were deaf."

"How could this have happened?" Dr. Carton said wearily. "There's no history of deafness in my family, or Emma's at least none that I'm aware."

Dr. Givens shrugged. "It could have been pre-natal causes. Was Emma ill during her pregnancy?"

"What you mean apart from the morning sickness, the constant food cravings, and hormonal imbalances," Will asked dryly. "Well besides that," Tricia said. "I meant did she have rubella, meningitis or any other disease during her pregnancy?"  
>Will shook his head as Tricia continued. "Had she ingested any sort of drugs, alcohol?"<p>

"You have met my wife," the doctor said dryly. "I have tried time and again to get her to quit. She was perscribed tranquilizers before we... before she found out. She stopped or rather claimed that she did during her pregnancy, but occasionally..."  
>"...A smell of creme de menthe or a glazed look in her eye would convince you otherwise," Tricia said. Will shrugged and nodded.<p>

"Doctors should know better how to treat their family shouldn't they?", he said sarcastically. He looked down at his hospital I.D. as if it could give him the answer. David was preoccupied with the I.D. playing with it and holding it in his hands.  
>" This is going to crush her. What am I going to tell her?" Will asked rubbing his eyes and suddenly feeling very exhausted. Dr. Givens shook her head, wishing that she could give her colleague some answers but knowing that they would be meaningless.<p>

Charles, his father, and brother drove towards home in Dad's car, silent. Charles looked from the passenger seat to his brother in the back. David was sucking his thumb and glancing out the window blissfully unaware of what was going on around him.

Will stopped at a red light and pounded at the steering wheel in frustration. He pounded again. "Are you alright Dad?" "I'm fine Charles," Will said angrily. Charles winced. It was seldom that his dad got angry, but usually when he did, his voice became deathly quiet like it was now. Charles backed away from him. His dad sighed. "I'm sorry, Charles, I'm just very knackered right now." He moved as the light turned green. Will turned to face his older son smiling.

"You know I was around your age when your grandfather received the call to minister in Kenya," Will began. Charles straightened up. He liked when his father told him of his boyhood in various countries in Africa, where his father worked as a missionary doctor. "Of course your Aunt Mary and I were completely confused and terrified. What is this going to be like? What if no one understands us? How were we going to get by without listening to _The_ _Goon Show_? So, our father told us that while many people will speak English there, it may make them more comfortable and welcoming if we took the effort to learn their native tongue, Swahili. Well we drilled ourselves almost making it a competition to see who could learn Swahili faster. Ironically, I suppose we got better than your grandparents. However, learning it and speaking it in conversation are two different things as I found out.

When we were over there, I had made a few friends so I thought that I would show off to my new found knowledge. I thought that I said 'Hello, would you like to come over and play with me?' Unfortunately, what I really said was something to the effect of 'Hey there would you like to come over to the backroom and get yout leg over with me and my sister?' " Charles giggled at his father's embarrassment. Will smiled and chuckled. "Wait it gets better. Before I found out what I really said, Aunt Mary repeated it to everyone she knew not only that but telling them where she learned it." Charles laughed louder. "Needless to say I was persona non grata at the mission for about two weeks. They probably thought the Great Beast 666 walked amongst them." Will winked at his son in nostalgic delight as Charles tried to picture in his head the memory. It seemed like another world to him, particularly since Dad lost his entire family and all Charles had to know of his grandparents and aunt were a few old photographs and his father's stories. Will's mother and little sister died in a cholera epidemic in Botswana, then Bechuanaland, when he was thirteen. Afterwards, the father and son settled in South Africa for many years where Will's father eventually died in prison protesting apartheid, the year before Will returned to London and began medical school. In fact every once in awhile Charles could still hear traces of the South African accent in his father's voice, especially when he talked about his past as he was doing now.

"What my point is, Charlie, it's never easy to learn a new language but when you get it right it's worth it and makes not only you but the other person feel more comfortable like somehow they belong," Will said. He glanced at his infant son through the rear view mirror. "Especially when that's the only way they can be understood."  
>"But how are we going to learn it?" Charles asked. He was worried about that, but also about his little brother. Why did this have to happen? But he knew, full well, why this happened and whose fault it really was. He had tears in his eyes once more. "It's not fair."<p>

"No it isn't," Will agreed. He pulled the car to another lane as he saw the library. "I suppose we shall find out what we can then."

When Charles, Will, and David returned from the library their arms were full of books; including basic books to learn British Sign Language,_ The BSL Dictionary_, a book for Will on _What To Do_ _When Your Child Is Deaf_ and for Charles a few books such as_ I Have A Sister_, _My Sister is Deaf_, and_ The Story of My Life_ by Helen Keller. The reference librarian also provided them with the name and number of classes which taught BSL twice a week. Will smiled as he strapped David in his seat and Charles leaped in the passenger side. The search for books and other information provided enough of a distraction for Charles that he was actually having fun. Of course Will wasn't surprised, Charles loved to read and enjoyed visiting anywhere he could find new books to satisfy his curiosity. In fact he looked through the books smiling widely for the first time all day.

Mum was gone by the time that Charles, his dad, and brother returned. His dad looked inside her bedroom and saw it empty. He sighed clearly annoyed. "Well, I suppose we'll have to talk to her later." David had yawned in his arms and he returned the infant to his bedroom, so he could sleep. "Are you hungry?" he asked Charles.

"Sure Dad," Charles said. "Can we order take-away?"

"I don't see why not, Curry?" Will asked. Charles nodded as he picked up the menu and made their eating selections. The two glanced through the Dictionary and other books as Will began to mime the signs that he saw in the pictures. "Why are you doing that now?" Charles asked. "David's asleep."

"True and it will be some time before he starts talk- uh communicating with us," Will said. "If we start now, we will be more comfortable communicating with him when the time comes."

Charles looked over his curry as the two began to practice the signs for the alphabet. "Look," Charles showed his father. He then made the signs for "D.A.D."

"Very good my boy," Will said with pride. "Now try your name."

Charles looked through the book and managed to spell, "C.H.E.R.L.A.S." He looked and realized that he did it wrong,"Bugger," he cursed.

Will laughed. "Not bad for a first try. Let's try again." They worked together managing to spell both Charles and David's names perfectly. They also practiced finger spelling, "Hello," "Good-bye," and "Hungry," and other words. "My hands are getting tired," Charles complained. "Are we going to do this all the time?"

"I suppose so," Will said wistfully. "I imagine after awhile we'll get used to it." The door burst open and a joyful slightly slurred voice cooed, "Afternoon all." Charles ran up to greet his mum. "Hi mum," he finger spelt and said excitedly.

Emma Carton looked down at her son, her arms were filled with shopping bags. She laughed. "Now what's this all about?" She asked as she lay her bags down and began to remove her scarf and jacket.

Will frowned at his wife and looked through the bags. "How much did these cost?" he asked.

Emma rolled her eyes. "I used my Barclaycard," she pouted.

"That card already has a large debt amount on it," Will reminded her. He rolled his eyes. Of course, he would pay for it later. He always did. He changed the subject. "Emma, we need to talk about 's something wrong with him."

"What about him?" Emma asked taking out two blouses and holding them up to her body glancing through the mirror. "I couldn't decide which of these looked better so I bought them both," she said. "One's salmon the other is passion, what do you think?"  
>"They're both pink and pink," Will countered dryly. "Emma, did you hear me about David? "<p>

"Yes something about him," Emma said putting her new clothes away. "What about him? Where is he?"

"He's upstairs asleep," Will replied. "He can't hear."

Emma dropped her bags as the fell on the floor. At first she was stunned, but then she started laughing. "What? Of course he can hear. Really, Will, you always did have an odd sense of humor but-"

"-Emma, our son is deaf," Will said. Emma tried to laugh again, but she stopped as though she realized he was telling the truth. "Charles and I both tried to talk to him and he didn't react so I took him to the hospital this morning and well- he is."

Emma's lip shook and her eyes filled. "No, that's just not true. Will, tell me!" She started sobbing and crying. Her husband held her and comforted her.

"It's alright, these things just happen," he said. "There's not much we can do now is there. I already spoke to Tricia Givens, you remember her, she said that within a year or two we can fit him with hearing aids. Charles and I already borrowed many books on the library on the subject and we have been practicing sign language. Also, there is a class at the local library that teaches BSL twice a week."

Emma had been silent but she interrupted. "When?"

"Wednesday evenings from 7:00-8:00 and Saturday afternoons from 12:00-2:00," Will encouraged.

Emma wrung her hands and looked at her husband, her eyes darting wildly. "I can't make them," she said. "I have pottery on Wednesdays and my yoga classes are changing times! I -uh I can't." She started crying again.

Will held his wife closely. "Em, it will be alright. We can do this. We can find another yoga class for you, There are others arouund London. We're just going to have to adjust. I know it's going to hard but-"

"-No Will, you don't understand," Emma said sharply. "I don't want to."

Charles had been quiet since his father told his mother about David being deaf. When they began arguing he took the book, _The_ _Story of My Life_, and walked upstairs. Their fighting escalated as angry words were said.

"Why do I feel like I have three children in the house and the eldest is the one that causes the most problems," Will countered sharply.

"So I suppose you think it's my fault that he's this way isn't it?" Emma shouted.

"I never said that," Will said.

"You don't have to, I can see it in your eyes," Emma yelled. "It's a problem and you want to fix it, so you can feel oh so superior to me! Dr. William Carton, Mr. Perfect and his wife, The Failure, is that it? What are you just a Saffie who got successful because you married a posh tart, is that what you're thinking?" From upstairs, Charles could hear a lot of loud noises, crashes and bangs, as though his mum were throwing things.

"You weren't so perfect a year ago with that nurse now were you?" Emma snapped.

"I told you before that was a mistake," Will snapped. "It only happened once and I regretted it and came back! Who knows what would have happened to you if I hadn't?"

Emma laughed bitterly and continued to throw things. "Happened to me? Don't flatter yourself. Maybe you're the reason I'm like this!"

Charles could hear his mother's voice being muffled as though his father had held onto her. "Emma stop this before you hurt yourself!"

Charles couldn't listen to anymore of this. His eyes filled as he walked into his brother's bedroom. He sat on the rocking chair and picked up the Helen Keller book. His parents were like this all the time. They were always so unhappy together. They often accused each other of the most awful things. Charles could tell even when one entered the room, the other rolled their eyes in annoyance as though they were the last person that they wanted to see. Was that what being married was all about? People married for love or friendship and then over time they grew to hate the very sight of each other and only vows that they took years ago or children kept them together? Charles knew many mates whose parents were divorced or arguing all the time. If this was what being married was all about then as far as he was concerned, Charles was never going to let it happen to him. He would never get married, ever.

The young boy glanced over at his little brother. David was fast asleep, unaware of the arguing downstairs. In a way, Charles envied him for it. Charles leaned closer to his brother's crib. "You are so lucky," he said to David as tears filled his eyes. "You can't hear any of this." He sat back down and began to read blocking out the noises downstairs in his heart if he couldn't in his ears.


	2. Chapter 2

Sound Mind and Sound Body

Chapter Two: Stronger in the Broken Places

Charles rode his bike hurriedly through the park. In the two months since David's diagnosis, he and his Dad had been diligent about practicing and taking the sign language classes. Mum had sat in on a couple of sessions, but often had trouble. Most of the time she observed her husband and son communicate with the baby, and tried to learn through them. But, she complained of being a slow learner and was often embarrassed when she made little mistakes. Many times Emma clammed up when she tried to communicate with her youngest son. So she relied on Will or Charles to act as interpreter for her. It was a bit daft, Charles asked, David was a baby and he wouldn't be understood anyway. Didn't all babies make noise? But his Mum said that it wasn't the noise, it was the silence and gestures that bothered her. " I can handle a crying baby, I've done that before," She said to her embarrassed older son. "But ,when he's pointing, how do I know what he's pointing at?" So, that's why he hurried home. Dad would be working a shift soon and Charles had to be home to help his Mum.

He ran his bike through the park while a couple of boys his age were playing football. He was preoccupied thinking of the trouble that he got into in school, another reason that he was in a rush to head home. Really, it wasn't his fault. Helena Mitchellson had passed him a note and Mr. Lancaster caught him reading it. He read the note aloud to the laughing class and a very blushing Charles. The instructor could be rather cruel that way.

Anyway, it wasn't that big a deal not some soppy romantic note anyway. Helena asked Charles if he wanted to walk home with her. The young boy didn't like Helena and they were certainly going to be walking with her cousin, Henny, a girl who Charles really didn't like. But, she would make him feel embarrassed if he refused, so he darted home after the last bell rang, before she had a chance to catch up to him.

Charles' mind was on his dilemmas at school and home that he didn't notice the football until it hit him square on the back of the head and he tumbled off his bike. "Sorry," a voice called.

Charles turned to the direction of the missed football and a boy his own age who looked embarrassed. He was fair-haired and still retained his baby fat. He had a very friendly, but shy expression and was dressed in a public school uniform. The boy jogged towards him. "Sorry, again," he said. His accent and uniform suggested that he came from a wealthy family, but he had a very friendly demeanour that seemed to recognize no class distinctions or barriers.

"It's alright," Charles said. "Just give me a minute to remember my number." He paused for a second. "Ah, there it is."

The other kid laughed. "Anyway, I was trying to remember the save Gordon Banks did against Pele in the Cup and I messed up."

"Well I think you got it wrong," Charles said.

The other kid blinked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well unless my head is the goal post you got it completely off," Charles said. He jumped off his bike. "Here let me show you. I'm Charles by the way." He shook the other's boy hand.

"I'm Tom," the other boy replied. Charles and Tom moved closer to the playing field. The stands were empty except for a dark-haired girl wearing a bored expression and reading a fashion magazine. She looked about Charles and Tom's age but very made-up. She reclined in a position to make her appear older and cooler than the immature boys around her. Like Tom, she was also dressed in a public school uniform.

Charles and Tom practiced a few kicks moving the ball towards each other and saving it from each other. The two boys laughed enjoying the one-on-one game. "Okay watch this," Tom yelled. He held the ball in his hand and gave it a forceful kick. This time sending the ball right in front of the girl. She stared dumbstruck for a second as her magazine fell from her hands under the stands. "Tom," she yelled through gritted teeth.

"Sorry Fifi," Tom apologized. He nodded at her, "My sister." He explained to Charles.

The girl, Fifi, stomped her foot and glared. "Bugger off, Tom!" Charles ran up to the stands and picked up the girl's magazine. He could see it was the French version of Vogue and featured Catherine Denevue on the cover. He handed it to the girl. "I'm sorry," Charles said. "Here you are."

The girl looked stunned at the boy. "Thank you-" she paused.

"Oh, Charles," Charles replied. "Nice to meet you, Fifi."

"Fiona," the girl corrected. She smiled again. She was about to say more when a voice called, "Master Tom, Miss Fiona, it's time to go."

Tom and Fiona looked up to see a middle-aged woman call to them and wave her hand forward. "Yes, Mrs. Staples," the two said in unison.

Fiona picked up her magazine and Tom grabbed his football as they followed the woman. "Thank you, Charles." Fiona said.

"Yeah it was a good game," Tom said.

"You too," Charles said. "You're welcome, Fiona." He waved the two kids good-bye. He enjoyed hanging out with them. They both seemed like fun, even Fiona in her own way. He should have gotten their phone number. He glanced at his watch 4:30 p.m.! "Bugger," Charles yelled and ran towards his bike cycling home like a madman.

When Charles returned home, the house was in complete disarray. David was sitting on the kitchen floor, sobbing. His face was red and tears rolled down his cheeks. He pointed at the counter and made noises sounding like a small animal.

"David please shut up," His mother begged wearily. She sat at the kitchen table, her hand on her forehead and her hair askew. Her hair was in a small ponytail earlier. However, it hung messy as she ran her fingers through it. Her fuchsia turtle neck and white short skirt were stylish but right now, they were wrinkled and a complete mess. Emma looked at her son, her make up running down her face. She looked so much like a clown that Charles wanted to laugh, but the glazed look in his mother's eyes told him that it was not wise. "Where the hell were you?" she choked."You were supposed to be home half an hour ago."  
>Charles looked down at his shoes. "I'm sorry, mum," he said. Why did he always do something to make her upset with him?<br>"I um fell off my bike and-"

Emma held up her hand to silence her son. "I don't know what he's saying," she said her voice choked with tears. "This house is a mess. I need your help, Charlie. I don't need you to give me rudding excuses!" She grabbed her son's arms and forcefully pushed him. Charles winced in pain as his mother's long fingernails dug into him.

Charles screamed in pain. "I'm sorry Mum," he repeated. "I'm sorry I made you mad at me."

Emma pushed her son into the kitchen. "Will you please tend to your brother?" Even though it was phrased as a question, Charles could tell that his mother wanted complete obedience.

Charles knelt down to David taking out the small phrase book that the sign language interpreter gave him for class. He read through and waved at his baby brother. He signed and made exaggerated gestures for Hi.

David stopped crying long enough to look at his brother. Charles sniffed realizing that David didn't need changing, so he picked up the stool and motioned to the cupboard. He pointed at his brother's sipping cup and mimed for drinking. David made a happy noise. Charles then jumped down from the shelf glad he was on the right track. He then opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of juice and again made the drinking sign. David continued to give that same delighted noise as Charles poured his baby brother's juice for him and handed it to him. David then took the sippy cup and drank peacefully.

"All he wanted was some juice, mum," Charles said. He looked down as David removed the cup from his mouth, pointed at the sitting room and made a fist towards his mouth and sucked his thumb."-And his dummy." Charles answered as he picked up his little brother's pacifier from the bag near his pram. He washed it in the kitchen sink. Charles reached down and wiped his baby brother's face with wet cloth and put the pacifier in his mouth.

David reached up to his mother,his arms wide open. Emma gave her son an awkward pat on the head, then stood up keeping her hands to herself. Charles then waved at his little brother and knelt down. He picked him up and then carried him to the sitting room, his brother across his right hip and holding the sippy cup. David had the pacifier in his mouth as they moved. Emma followed the two brothers into the room, observing as Charles made faces at David as he drank. "He understood you," Emma said her voice hollow. "How?"

Charles shrugged. "I don't know, I just started doing a lot of signs with him. Some of them aren't really the ones in the book. I guess he just copies me and knows what I'm trying to ask him."

Emma gave a small thin smile and looked towards the kitchen. "The kitchen is a mess," she said in a monotone voice. "It needs to be cleaned. I need the floor to be scrubbed. Will you do that for me, Charles?"

She grabbed onto her son's arm again. Charles was about to say that he couldn't and that he had plenty of homework and an exam to study for (not a complete lie), but the way that she looked at him frightened him. He nodded.

Two hours later, Charles looked up from the bucket filled with soapy water and the sponge. His arms, back, and legs ached from bending over, but he did not complain about it. He knew that his mother would become angrier than ever. She often followed her son as he cleaned, checking for even the slightest bit of dust. Then she would make him go over the spot where she noticed it, several once in awhile, she would become so furious that she would push his face down to the spot to get a closer look so he could agree with her. Thankfully, she didn't do that this even returned to her bathroom to retouch her make up. Charles often noticed that she was only concerned about cleaning the house when she was upset about something else as though it were a distraction from other things on her mind. So, she focused on the house. If the house wasn't up to her specifications, then she became more upset.

Charles looked down at the sponge and bucket not looking at his mother but he tensed. He felt almost like a medieval serf in the presence of a lady. Emma leaned down on the floor and then ran her finger alongside of it. "It looks...alright, you may go now," she said. Charles was about to stand, when his mother stayed his hand. "But first, I want to talk with you," she said.

Charles wearily sat down as his Mum hesitated. "Charles, it's your father's turn in the rotation to be on call so that means that he won't be home tomorrow," Charles nodded. "I need you to stay home to look after things for me."

Charles' mouth dropped open. "Mum, I can't. I've been absent too many times this term already and I have an exam tomorrow, I've been studying for know Dad didn't like it when I had to last time. Besides Mr. Lancaster-"

"-I'll explain it to him," Emma said. "I'll think of father will be out all day, so he doesn't have to know. It will be our little secret. Besides,is school more important to you than your family? Please, David understands you. He doesn't understand me. You abandoned me already today. Please, Charlie I need you!"

Charles sighed. Why did she demand so much from him? He felt the scratches on his arms. Would she hurt him if he refused? But then again would it be something that his father would hear about later and be yet another reason for them to fight? Besides, he liked school. He almost considered it a place of rest away from his mother's and brother's needs where he could be with his friends.

"Mum," He began but then saw her eyes water and her lip quiver. She thankfully wasn't turning into her Mother personality, but she was becoming Mummy, or perhaps she had been all day. Mummy needed to be cared for as well as David.

Charles felt a lump in his throat about being late. He should have come home on time. He should have been there for his mother and brother. Why did he always mess up? Before he could say anymore he nodded. "Alright, Mum," he sighed. "I'm sorry about today."

Charles rose to go to his bedroom. His mother wore a different expression, one more of guilt and shame. "Charlie-" she began. Her older son stopped, but the expression changed and she smiled. "Thank you." The young boy nodded and returned to his room.

Even though, Charles didn't have to go to school tomorrow, he took out his school books and papers. Everything had to be right and perfect, so he worked on his homework. He spent an hour, reading, taking notes, writing answers, correcting and revising, and studying to hand to his teacher. When he finally finished, he sank down on the bed so exhausted that he slept with his clothes on.

The next day, Emma Carton lit her candles and incense and sat cross legged across the small Buddha statue. She put her hands together feeling the pranic energy pull through her fingertips, then chanted an "om." She felt her spirit rise as though she were weightless soaring above London. She felt like if she wanted to then she could fly. This was the most enlightening part of her day to feel a part of everything and at peace with herself. During these times, she was no longer a bored housewife approaching 30 with a husband that she no longer felt anything for beyond contempt for his protectiveness and two sons, one whom she couldn't communicate with and the other one who loathed and feared her. Instead she felt like a spirit of light one who could flit about among the rooftops and trees. That was who she wanted to be.

A loud cry disturbed her thoughts and anchored her to the present and to her own life. Emma sighed, blew out the candles and stifled the incense and returned to her youngest son's bedroom. Unlike yesterday's disaster, there was no doubt what David's problem was. She was about to wake Charles up to take care of it, but decided instead to look after this one on her own. She sighed as she changed the baby's nappy. Was this really what her life was about? Not just this particular task, but the demands of both of her children and her husband?

Emma felt like that she was sleepwalking through her life, not really a part of it or anything else for that matter. David reached up to hug his mother across the neck. She only absently returned the affection with a quick kiss, not feeling anything but uncomfortable at his spittle running down her chin. It was bad enough that Charles and David demanded so much of herself, now she had to live with the baby's deafness. When Emma saw Will and Charles effortlessly sign to each other, their fingers flying in conversation, she felt envious and shame that she couldn't even learn the basic letters or words. After awhile, she just gave up trying and closed herself off emotionally from her younger son blocking any attempts for closeness.

Besides her embarrassment at her lack of communication skills, she was afraid of herself with him, as afraid as she was with Charles. She hated having Charles do so thinking about the previous day filled her with self-loathing. A ten year old boy should not have to care for his mother as though she were a spoiled angry child who threw tantrums at the slightest provocation.

There were times when she felt like a spectator in her own emotional outbursts, unable to stop herself before she hurt her sons with words or her hands. She saw the panicked fear in her older son's eyes and knew that she caused it. Could she pass that fear to another child? No, it was better to emotionally cut herself off from David than have him live with fearing the woman that he called mother. It was better to just tolerate the boy's existence and not have him live with the years of disappointment and broken promises that his brother had.

She put the baby back into his bed, wanting to return to the meditation but she lost the momentum of it. Unlike many of her past pursuits to distract herself from the monotony of her life and her raging emotions, this one stayed with her. She tried many things therapy, drugs, alcohol, shopping,different hobbies-was even institutionalized for a period of months after Charles was born- but nothing seemed to work until she began to take her Yoga and meditation classes seriously. Oh she still got the urge to buy the most darling clothes, and she still needed her absinthe and Vallium-after all she was no saint- but she recognized a wholeness in this spirituality that she didn't have before. She discovered within her classmates and her instructor a strength and stability that she didn't have but desperately wanted and craved.

Emma suddenly felt confined in her house. She looked around feeling the walls closing in. Tears welled up in her eyes as she ran down the stairs. Her body shook as her heart clenched. Panic swelled through her body and mind. She struggled to get a hold of herself and tried to catch her breath. She slowly counted down feeling the madness pass, but she didn't feel any better. In fact, Emma felt empty inside. She glanced upstairs at the boy's bedroom and put on her shoes. She needed help and she needed to get out. Emma put on her jacket, briefly debating whether she should tell Charles where she was going. She shook her head, deciding not to since she didn't know where she was going herself. Besides Charles was good at handling things that's why she kept him at home today. Leaving no notice and having no idea where she was going, Emma walked out the door.

David's loud wail started Charles out of his sleep, "Bugger," he cursed. He waited for a few minutes to see if his mum would respond but David's cries only grew louder. Charles jumped off his bed, cursed to himself, and left the bedroom to tend to his brother. After all that's what he agreed to stay home for.

Charles turned on the bedroom light and walked into his baby brother's room. "It's alright, Davey," Charles signed and said at the same time. "I'm here, Charlie's here." He picked David up balancing him on his hip and felt his bum. He needed changing so Charles ran to the cabinet where they kept the fresh nappies and wet cloth. He then returned to his brother's bedroom and changed his nappy. He turned away from the smell, but continued to work. He then put the nappy in the rubbish bin and washed his hands. Then returned to his brother to comfort him.

David was still crying up a storm as Charles sat him down on the rocking chair and rocked back and forth with him. With David in his arms, Charles could not sign without disrupting him but he held his brother closer and continued to whisper to him, "It's alright." The sign language instructor told them not to feel embarrassed if they use their mouths to speak with David instead of their hands. "It's a perfectly natural reaction. You can't always unlearn the years you spent speaking to each other. Also, it's good training for him to read lips as well," so Charles continued to whisper to his brother speaking into his slightly better ear.

Charles reached over and picked up one of David's toys, a plush clown with a nose that lit up. He turned on the nose to distract his younger brother, but David only cried harder. Charles held his brother closer and felt his forehead. It felt warm. He then looked closer at the baby's face to see his flushed cheeks and forehead and glassy eyes. "Oh no," Charles panicked. He then ran to the lavatory and grabbed a thermometer, and put it under his brother's arm. David sobbed and began gagging. Charles tried to sign phrases like, "Big Brother is here," and "it's alright," putting his finger to his lips for emphasis, but it was hard to do it one handed and hold onto the baby at the same time. The thermometer read 102.5. Charles felt panic swell up. David was sick! What was he going to do? No sooner did Charles remove the thermometer from his brother, then David made one large gag and vomited onto his older brother's clothes.

"God, David," Charles whined as he searched for medicine. No he was out, besides he didn't know what medicine that David needed. He could be sick with anything! He ran for his mother's bedroom, but saw that it was empty. He stamped his foot upset and worried as he struggled with his brother. Should he call an ambulance? Should he call his father? What if he or Mum got in trouble? This was his fault again! What was he supposed to do?

He wrapped his arms around his younger brother in a tight hug and ran downstairs. "Don't worry," he said to his little brother. "I'll get help." He first dialed 999. The operator took his information and said that an ambulance will be on its way. He then dialed the number of his father's hospital, almost before he could stop himself, and told the receptionist, "Dr. William Carton please. It's an emergency!"

Will stood next to his colleagues over the patient. A young man was having cardiac troubles and needed stabilizing. Will held out his hand to the young nurse by his side. "Scalpel," he said. The nurse handed him the scalpel. Will looked at it up and down with mock surprise. "This is a scalpel? Oh that's a relief." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the nurse's eyes widen obviously fearful of the surgeon's presumed lack of medical knowledge.

The older nurse, Will's friend Madge, glanced sarcastically at the younger one. "He's kidding, Kate," she said. "I hope."

"Just having a lark," Will agreed. "Trying to lighten the mood." Even though she was in a surgical mask like her colleagues, Kate's eyes clearly seemed to relax and she gave a nervous laugh. He continued to work on the patient opening up the inside. "Now here comes the really fun icky part. Turn your heads if you're squeamish."

"Don't mind Will," Madge said. "He's a terror to all of the new people."

"Why Madge," Will said shocked. "I can't believe that you would spread such lies about me! I'm a terror to everyone get it right."

"Oh of course, silly me. I should have remembered," Madge wryly responded.

"Oh Madge, whatever would you do without me?" Will asked jovially.

"Really Will, I would love to find out someday," she challenged back. She playfully shoved her friend by the elbow in a sisterly manner which Will returned. Kate and the anesthesiologist glanced at each other amused.

Will continued to work on the patient as his heart rate began to increase on the monitor. "Alright," Will said. "Not 'The White Album' material but a wonderful beat anyway. I think our friend here is well on his way to recovery."

He continued to work as the intercom crackled. "Dr. William Carton you have a phone call, white outline phone, line 2."

Will rolled his eyes. "I'm right in the middle of something, Ivy," he called.

"It's an emergency concerning your son," Ivy called.

Will looked towards the nurses to the patient. He was almost finished. "Alright, give me a few minutes and I'll be right there." He stitched up the patient then changed from his surgical garb and scrubbed out.

Will approached the telephone expecting to hear the head master of Charles' school calling him. He was surprised to hear Charles' voice. "Dad, it's me!"

Will blanched. "Charlie, what's the matter?"

"It's David," Charles stammered. "He's really sick. He has a fever and he vomited all over me! I don't know what medicine to give him and I'm really scared-"

"Charlie, alright," Will said. "Now calm down and take a deep breath. First, why are you with David?"

He could just sense the tense silence before his son spoke. "Mum wanted me to stay home while you were on call. She didn't want you to know."

Will felt his anger simmer at his wife. He tried to keep it in to avoid exploding at his already fragile nervous son. He could hear David crying in the background. "Where is your mother now?"

"I don't know," Charles cried. "Am I in trouble?"

Will smiled despite the trouble. "No son, you're not." Your mother on the other hand, Will thought to himself. No time for that now. "What is his temperature?" "102.5"," Charles replied. "I called 999, they said an ambulance will be coming but it isn't here yet."

"It's alright son," will said. "You did the right thing. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He could hear a siren in the background and movement as though Charles rose to look out the window. "The ambulance is here, Dad."

"Good Charlie," Will said. "I'll be there as soon as I can. I'm sure he'll be alright." He said. "Don't worry, Daddy's here." He promised. Charles hung up the phone. Will rested his head on the phone jack and then rose to make arrangements for another doctor to take his place in surgery.

Charles and Will listened as Tricia explained that he had a tiny ear infection and needed penicilin. She gave them the perscription before they left. The two sat in the sitting room,after returning from the chemist and giving David his medicine. David instantly began to calm down and held onto a soft plush stuffed dog. while Will rocked his son back and forth in his pram, Charles continued reading The Story of My Life silently with tears in his eyes. "I know there are some sad scenes, but I didn't know they were that sad," Will quipped.

"I'm not crying about that Dad," Charles said. "I'm so daft. I really stuffed up today and yesterday. I wasn't home when Mum wanted me to be and now he got sick and I didn't know what to do!"

Will reached over and hugged his son. "Charles you did everything right today. You called for emergency, you rang me, you even locked the door on the door on the way out. There wasn't more that you could have done."Charles seemed unconvinced and Will shook his head. He loved his eldest son dearly, but he worried a lot and got nervous so easily. He was like those little dogs that constantly fussed and yipped until someone put a sweater on them when they were cold but ultimately proved to be loyal companions and loving protectors. Sometimes Charles reminded Will so much of his mother in that way. Will shuddered and prayed that his son wouldn't inherit any of Emma's worst traits. He broke himself from those dour thoughts to change the subject. He nodded at The Story of My Life. "Are you enjoying the book?" he asked.  
>Charles nodded. " Second time, I'm reading it. I tried to imagine what it was like when I first read it. I turned off all the lights, closed my eyes, and covered my ears in my room. I couldn't do it for a few minutes without bumping into things." He said. "I can't imagine what it was like for her or-" He glanced over at David not wanting to add 'or him' but silently thinking it anyway. "It must have been awful."<p>

Will nodded."It probably was, but I think Helen Keller would have been the last person to need any sort of pity. Do you know what happened to her after she grew up?"

Charles nodded. "Besides writing this? I don't know."

"She became an author and lecturer," Will said. "She fought for women's votes, unions, on behalf of the poor, people with disabilities. She even had some very strong political opinions that put her at odds with everyone, even Annie Sullivan. She was a fighter, even from when she was a child and just continued to be so." He glanced over at his infant son. "I have a feeling your brother is the same way."

"If by fighter you mean that he cries all the time, and yells a lot then yeah you're right," Charles said. " FOr someone who's deaf, he can be quite loud." Both Charles and his father laughed at that ironic statement. "He can be a real brat."

"Well I knew a worse one," Will said dryly.

"I was not," Charles said shocked. He then thought. "I guess he's like Helen in the way that he just wants to be heard."

"I imagine so," Will said. "It's very hard for him to make himself be known. When he can't hear my voice, or your's, or your mother's. Can't hear music, or birds. But, he will manage. He's a tough little man, and I think this can only strengthen him. People are often stronger in the broken places. I believe Ernest Hemingway said that."

"I wish I were that strong," Charles said keeping his eyes on the book and lowering his voice so his father wouldn't hear. He felt tears come to his eyes once again.

Will put his hand on his older son's shoulder and tilted his chin up. He held out his hands and signed and spoke at the same time. "You are." He then gave Charles a large hug. "I am so proud of you today."

Charles pulled from his father and spoke and returned the sign. "Thanks, Dad."

Later that evening, Will and the boys had eaten their supper and were getting ready for bed when the phone rang. Will leaned over and answered it. "Hello?" he braced himself hoping that it wasn't the hospital.

An official sounding voice said on the phone. "Dr. William Carton? Are you the husband of Emmeline Carton?"

Will felt his heart sink. "Oh God! Yes. Is something wrong?"

"You could say that," the voice answered. "I'm PC Pembroke, of the Met and we are holding your wife."

"Dad what's going on?" Charles asked.

Will held up one finger for silence. "What happened?"

"Well for specific purposes, sir, we would prefer to discuss this in private," the officer replied.

"I'll be there," Will said. He hung up the phone and turned to the boys. He called their next-door neighbor to come and keep an eye on the boys.

"Dad, what's wrong? What's the matter with Mum?" Charles asked, his voice cracking.

Will leaned down and ruffled his son's hair. "I don't know, Charlie."He paced back and forth. "It's too late to call anyone." He then turned to his son. "Can you get your brother washed up and ready for bed?

"Yeah," Charles said." What is it?"

"I hope nothing bad," he said. "I want you to look after things until I return." He glanced towards his son as the boy straightened his back in almost heart breaking seriousness. Will was about to say more, but he shook his head. "It's short notice, Charlie, I will be back. I promise." He said before he left.

Will''s heart continued to thump wildly as he approached the police station and filled out the visitor's paperwork. He was greeted by the uniformed officer who led him to the holding cell. "Someone found her in the bushes behind their home near Kensington, babbling incoherently. They thought at first that she was violent, but she exhibited no tendencies of that and they rang us. She managed to tell us her full name and that's how we were able to locate did the tests and she wasn't intoxicated nor under any medicinal influences."

"She is a very ill woman sometimes," Will said sadly. "But she's not dangerous."

"Be that as it may sir," Pembroke reminded him. "She cannot be permitted to go off her rails like this."

He opened the door to the holding cell and Will saw Emma sitting in one corner of the cell, wearing a dejected expression on her face and nothing else. Her curly fair hair hung off her shoulders, surrounding her breasts, and haphazardly covered her face and eyes. She rocked back and forth hugging her knees and mumbling to herself. Her arms and shoulders were covered with scratches that the officer explained were from the rose and hyrdrangea bushes that she was found in.

Will kneeled down and spoke to Emma calmly with the same soft tone that he used for his younger patients when they were frightened of doctors. "Em," he said. "It's Will."

Emma at first darted up like a frightened animal, then she seemed to relax upon seeing her husband but only slightly. Her eyes filled with tears. "I thought that was our baby. He must have been switched, you see because our baby was laughing and talking! That one there isn't our baby. He's so quiet. Don't make me go back there, where it's dark and silent. It's so silent!" She lay her head on her knees and her voice was muffled through her sobs.

Will winced and held his fist to his mouth. The police officer nodded and spoke. "The people who found her said that she kept harrassing them about their baby insisting it was her's."

"We have an infant son," Will replied. "It can't be anyone else's. He was delivered on the way to hospital. He's deaf and it's been hard on her. It's a part of a delusion."

Will then leaned over to his wife. He reached out to her through the bars. She didn't relax or approach him. He wished that he could wrap his arms around his wife and tell her that everything would be alright. "Emma, David is our baby and he's worried about you, and so is Charlie, and so am I. We want you to come home." Emma shook her head and cried again saying once again, how everything was so silent.

The officer put his hand on the doctor's shoulder. "Sir, we may have to press charges on her. If you don't consent to her institutionalization, she may be charged with child endangerment, and creating a public disturbance."

Will shook his head. "She wouldn't intentionally endanger a child."

"Do you know that for sure, sir?" the officer asked rhetorically and Will had no answer for him after all look at what damage she caused not only to a strange child but to her own? He swallowed knowing what decision he had to make.

He called over to Emma. "Emma, you are going away somewhere. They are going to look after you for awhile. It won't be very long."

"Again?" she said.

Will nodded. "Again, but you can come home soon."

Emma began to shake and rocked herself back and forth again. She then let out a bloodcurdling scream. "NO! NO! NO!" She said to him crawling towards the bars and grabbing his hands and shoulders. "Please, Will, don't let them! It's too dark there, it's too cold! I didn't do anything wrong, I just wanted our baby back! Please, Will, please!"

"I'm sorry, Emma," Will said softly holding his wife's hand and kissing her face. He then waited for the guards to come and calm her down before he signed the papers consenting for her involuntary commitment.


	3. Chapter 3

Sound Mind and Sound Body

Chapter Three: Trying to be fine

"Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore, riding through the night/Soon every lupin in the land will be in his mighty hand," Charles sang and signed the Monty Python song to his smiling brother as their father drove them in the car. "He steals from the rich and gives to the poor. Mr. Moore. Mr. Moore. Mr. Moore."

Will shook his head but laughed as he glanced at the road. "Charles, if you memorized your studies as well as you memorized every Python sketch, your teachers would recommend you for a Rhodes scholarship."

"Yeah but they're more fun," Charles groaned as he continued the song. He got many of the words mixed up in the signing and found that signing song lyrics wasn't near as easy as spoken words because of their speed, but he didn't think David really fully understood the meaning behind the signs yet anyway. He just seemed to like his brother's exaggerated facial expressions and the way that his fingers moved as he spoke. Like a hearing baby, David sort of understood but was still trying to put the meaning into words (or in his case gestures). Both his dad and the sign language teachers said that Charles was a natural for sign language because he had such an "expressive body anyway." He supposed that David picked up on that too. David laughed making small gestures with his infant fingers that seemed to convey, "Dada" and "Brother." "Is it like he's trying to say 'Da da?'" Charles once asked.

"I guess that's his way of doing it," Dad replied. "He doesn't quite get the hang of it yet, but he's beginning to use the signs on his own rather than just mimicking us."

Charles neared the end of the song as his dad turned the car towards the park. "He steals from the poor and gives to the rich. Stupid-"

"-I think that's enough," Will interrupted. "I rather your brother wait a few more years before he has to learn words like that hmm?"

"But I don't know words like that in sign language, Father," Charles said making his voice as innocent as he could sound. Charles then folded his hands and smiled so angelic a smile, that Will could almost imagine the heavenly choir and the beatific halo glowing over Charles' head, that is if he couldn't also picture the mischievous devil horns lurking underneath.

Will smirked. "Now I'm certain that was you or was it someone who looked like you during the end of the last class talking with those other kids your age and seem to be having quite a laugh?"

"We were just talking and signing," Charles offered.

"I find that hard to believe," Will replied.

" They were showing me that they knew how to sign certain words and I told them I know all the bad words in Swahili and Afrikaaner too," Charles reminded his father.

Will blushed as he parked remembering where his son learned them. He cleared his throat. "Here we are, let's get out and enjoy the day, boys." The father and sons emerged from the car as they gathered the pram, luncheon basket, and other items from the boot. It was a beautiful day, one of the few fine days of beautiful weather so there were many people out and about in the park enjoying their time. It was nice to get away on Will's day off and on a weekend so they could enjoy their time together.

David shifted in the pram moving his arms up and down in a forward motion. His father made a swinging movement with his hands and then gathered him up. "I'll take him on the swing for a bit, then we'll have a sit down alright?" Charles glanced at the ice cream van nearby. There was also something else or rather someone else that caught his eye; a tall blond girl in a cotton white tennis uniform. "Can I go get some ice cream?" he asked.

Will reached inside his wallet and pulled out a fiver. "Alright, go ahead," he told him. "Be back here soon, so we can have our lunch and don't overeat, right?"

Charles nodded in agreement and walked over to the van and the girl. He stood behind her and strutted in a way to appear cool and calm. Yes, that was him Charles Carton, Mr. Joe Cool. He snapped his fingers and tried to strut forward only succeeding in bumping into her.

"Uh, excuse me," he said.

The girl turned around. She was taller than him and already had a developed body. She glanced at Charles through her heart sunglasses. The young boy could see pink gloss on her lips. She smiled. "No, that's alright," she said. "You come here a lot?"

Charles was about to say something witty and charming like, "If I had I would have remembered someone as lovely as you," but he couldn't the only thing that he managed was a stammering, "Uh yes..uh Charles, my name is um Charles."

The girl smiled condescending. "Well, Charles my name is Violet." The line moved forward as Violet requested a small lemon cone.

This was the perfect time, Charles stepped up. "I'll pay for it," he offered.

Violet laughed as though Charles were a five year old doing something darling. "Oh, what a gentleman," Violet cooed. Charles ordered a chocolate and vanilla swirl for himself and paid for both his and the girl's selections. "So, Charles are you here all by yourself?" Violet asked.

Charles blushed, but tried once again to retain a cool demeanour. After all, how adult was it to tell her that he was alone? After this they could go anywhere! "Yeah," he said.

"Charles," Will called waving his hand forward. "I found a place to sit down. Do you want your coke in your_ Dr. Who_ thermos or do you want it in a cup?"

Charles blushed embarrassed. At almost 11 years old, the gawky boy knew one thing: being signaled out by your parents in front of a beautiful girl was not cool. However, the next thing that he did was even less cool. In the split second that he turned towards his father, Charles lowered his ice cream cone all over Violet's blouse. The young boy looked at the very large white and brown stain that smeared all over the once spotlessly white outfit.

"Uh, I'm sorry, that will come off in the dry cleaners won't it?" Charles laughed dryly but the girl's frozen but angry face told him that this was not a conversation that he should continue so Charles darted away from her and towards his father.

"You all right, son?" Will asked as he and Charles walked towards the picnic table.

"Yeah just great," Charles said bitterly, very embarrassed as he slumped towards the picnic table behind his father and baby brother.

After a few more minutes of eating and talking, Charles got over the monstrous embarrassment long enough to enjoy himself. He laughed and joked with his family as they ate their lunch and enjoyed the day. On days like this, Charles could almost forget his mother's absence, almost. She was still in the mental hospital undergoing treatments. Will visited her often once a week. He wouldn't say what went on in their meetings, but his long face and the almost tears in his eyes indicated to Charles that it was never good. At first Will tried to bring David with him, but apparently it made Emma more upset and reclusive, so he stopped bringing him and left him with Charles or Mrs. Becket, their new housekeeper, when he went to visit her. He allowed Charles to make his own mind whether he wanted to come or not, but Charles always refused. He just couldn't bring himself to see his Mum in the hospital and knowing that in his own small way he caused it. Every night, Charles gave a small prayer to God that his Mum would get better and come home. He would then whisper, "I'm sorry, mum," hoping that she would forgive him but the tears in her Mummy eyes combined with the sharp fists and slaps of the Mother hands would haunt him and he was never sure whether she would come home or even (and Charles felt guilty about this) whether he wanted her to or not.

Charles was broken from these somber thoughts by David's grunts and soft sighs. He then moved his little hands forward and back mimicking swinging. Will chuckled and sighed. "Swinging again?" he teased. "My goodness." He was about to get up and take him, when Charles held him by the hand.

"I'll take him, Dad," Charles offered. He looked around to see if Violet would be watching. He couldn't see her anywhere. Thankfully, she wouldn't see him doing something as daft as taking his baby brother on the swings.

"Alright, if you insist," Will said. He leaned back on his chair. Charles could see that his father's eyes were closing through the lenses of his sunglasses. Charles shrugged and wheeled the pram towards the swings.

While watching his son through his sunglasses, Will thought of the conversation that he had with Madge shortly after he hired Mrs. Becket. Since he and Madge started at the hospital about the same time, they had gotten to know each other rather well having a brother-sister relationship that consisted of friendly teasing banter, continual support, and the occasional heart-to-heart chat. The nurse listened as Will explained that Mrs. Becket was another student in the sign language class trying to learn to communicate with her granddaughter. She moved in with her daughter's family from Portsmouth and needed to earn some extra money so Will hired her to come in three times a week to keep house and look after the boys.

"Three times a week," Madge said. "Charles must be thrilled about the three days off from baby sitting."

Will shrugged. "Actually, he wasn't. Apparently, Mrs. Becket told me that he kept following her the first few days criticizing everything she did towards David. 'That formula isn't warm enough.' 'He's only supposed to get his teddy bear at nap times.' That sort of thing. He's let up though on that, thank goodness."

Madge nodded as the two walked through the hospital corridor. She chose her next words carefully. "Will, that's not normal with a kid is it?"

"Well, I always told Charles that he isn't a normal boy," Will joked lightly but he turned serious. "What are you driving at, Madge?"

The nurse thought. "Well when I asked my Winston to do anything, particularly with his brother, Marcus, he would usually sigh, pretend he hadn't heard me until his father or I put a few more decibels around it."

"Well I'll tell Charles then that since Madge is so concerned about him, the next time I ask him to do something he should be lazy about it then," he said. "Madge, he's 10 years old, he's had to go through a lot that would mature most kids. I suppose that he's had to grow up too fast. He's had to wear a lot on his shoulders so it isn't easy for him to hand responsibilty over to someone else."

"Are you sure that there isn't something deeper with him," Madge inquired. "Something more that's troubling him?"

"Besides the obvious of having a deaf brother and an unstable mother, I can't imagine what else could be troubling him," Will countered rather more sharply than he intended. Really he was getting tired of Madge's incessent questions, mostly because these were questions that he had been asking himself in his mind. "Madge, I make it a point not to worry about Charles if I don't have to. I have enough on my mind with David, and Emma, and my patients here, that the last thing that I need to be anxious about is my 10 year old son when there isn't any problem with him. He has been a great help to me. The only thing that is wrong with Charles is that he's had to endure too much in the past year and hiring some outside help should relieve that burden. Charles is fine." He repeated that to himself almost making it a mantra so he could convince himself. "Charles is fine."

Will broke from the memory as he watched his 10 year old son remove his little brother from the pram onto the swing like a parent who was well practiced in holding a fragile infant. "Charles is fine," Will said to himself hoping that it was true.

Charles strapped his brother in and made the gestures for "Baby" and "swing." Since they were so similar and there was almost a rhythm to it, Charles turned it into a song, "Swing, baby, swing baby." He continued to sing as he took David out of the pram and strapped him in the baby swing. David began smiling as soon as Charles strapped him and made his unusual baby sounds and odd laughter. He was so caught up in the song and motions of swinging his brother, that he didn't notice the three larger boys watching him and mimicking his movements.

"Hey Mum," one of the boys snickered. "Are you pushing the babe?" The other two laughed.

Charles glared at the boys but ignored them as he continued to push his baby brother, but he did stop singing.

"Awww, is Mummy going to tell the baby a story then?" "Are you going to breast feed him?" "Mummy looking after the baby!"

Charles took out the hand-held booklet on sign language and signed to his brother, pointedly ignoring them. He blushed embarrassed and glared but continued to sign. One of the boys noticed and laughed at his friends. "Why are you doing that- Oh," he said. "Hey lads, I think we have ourselves an idjit on our hands!"

"Which one, Mummy or the Babe?" one of the others laughed.

"Both," the original one said. The three boys chanted "Idjit," "idjit," "idjit," and also "retard, retard, retard" for variety,causing some other nearby children to chant right along with them. The children that didn't chant just laughed at the fray pointing at them including Charles cringed with embarrassment, Violet. She whispered to one of her girlfriends giggling with delight at the ensuing battle. Charles could clearly see the remnants of the ice cream still stained on her white blouse.

Charles stopped David's swing holding both chains with his hands so tight that his knuckles turned white. He turned to the boy who started the chanting. "Actually, my brother's quite smart. In fact, I'd say he's smarter than you because he knows enough not to make fun of people!"

Some of the other kids stopped chanting and laughed at Charles' comeback. The larger boy then pushed Charles to the ground. "What'd you say, idjit?"

Charles' head and his heart were dueling inside himself for supreme control. His head was reminding him that these boys were larger than him and the wisest course would be to unstrap David and run for it with his baby brother in tow, but his heart was saying, 'They started it, you can finish it.' Charles chose what he thought was the best course of action.

"Obviously, since you didn't listen, you only proved my theory," Charles remarked dryly. "I said that you're the real idjit!" He was about to get up again when the larger boy growled, his face red with anger and he raised a punch so hard on the younger smaller boy's face that it sent Charles falling to the ground and his glasses flying off his face. As soon as Charles fell, he knew that he chose poorly. Before Charles could even get up, the other boy punched him to the ground and straddled on top of him beating him. Charles screamed while the other boy's friends chanted and laughed.

From the baby swing, David had stopped laughing and smiling as soon as Charles stopped pushing him. He was confused but even more distressed when he saw his big brother on the ground under the larger boys. Something was wrong! He screamed at the top of his lungs and began to cry.

From the picnic chair where Will had been resting his eyes, he arose startled at the sound of his youngest son's screams and the loud yelling from other children. He looked towards the swing set where a small group of children had gathered. Some adults had ran to the side. Alarmed, Will ran towards the fray, where a tall boy had been beating up a smaller one, he didn't have to look closely to see the smaller boy was Charles! Will gently pushed back from a large man, who had grabbed the other boy, obviously the kid's father and pulled him aside. Will grabbed on to Charles by the shoulder and helped him rise. At first Charles was stunned, but then stopped upon seeing his father. Will gently picked up his older son's glasses which had broken in the struggle and held him close.

"You alright?," Will asked looking his son up and down.

Charles nodded and swallowed trying to valiently hold back the tears that were emerging from the beating but not really too successfully. From the swing, David was continuing to wail his face red from the exertion and probably confusion. "They called him some nasty names," Charles swallowed. "Like 'idjit' and 'retard'. I defended him but-"

Will gently held onto his son and rocked him back and forth. "Shh, it's alright," he said."Let's get you cleaned up.I have an ice pack in my first aid kit." He let Charles lean on his shoulder while he unstrapped David from the swing and released him. He held one son by the crook of his arm letting him lean on his shoulder, while he perched the other son on his hip holding him by the waist. Both boys cried onto their father. Will was slightly uncomfortable sitting in a squatted position on the hard ground and his leg was falling asleep, but he didn't care as he continued to hold onto both his sons. "I think we've had enough excitement for one day. We'll go home as soon as you are ready, alright?" Charles nodded as Will held him tightly, and gently helped his sons to rise. He placed David in his pram and walked the two over to the table that still held their things and took out his first aid kit.

The small family entered the sitting room and greeted the short woman with salt-and-pepper gray hair. "Hi, Mrs. Becket," Charles said tried to smile but was still holding the ice pack to his face. The pack had begun to melt and water started dripping from the bottom.

"Hello boys, Dr. Carton," she said in her rural Southern England voice. She signed the words along with her speech. She clicked her tongue at the state of Charles' face but did not ask questions. If he wanted to tell her what happened, either he or Will would offer information, otherwise she didn't ask.

"I did your washing up and oh Dr. Carton," she leaned forward. "Bethlem left a message. They wanted you to call back right away, said it's urgent."

Will started and removed the ice pack and placed another one in his first aid kit. "Charles, why don't you go upstairs and rest your eyes for a bit. Go in your room, lie down with the ice pack over your face and the lights off. You can use your spare glasses for now until we get you some new ones right?"

Charles was about to object, but his stomach sank because he knew that his father also had an ulterior motive so that his son would leave the room in case it was bad news about his mum. He slowly walked upstairs.

"He got into a bit of a fight with some boys in the park," Will explained to Mrs. Becket. "Could you take him while I take care of this?" He indicated David. The housekeeper happily obliged wheeling David into the sitting room already signing to the baby and talking sweetly to him. "Have fun with daddy?" she smiled as she wrapped her hand inside his fingers. David smiled.

Will offered a sad smile and then dialed the number. He listened to the receptionist. "Dr. Roderick Sydney, please." He waited for the extension of Emma's psychiatrist to beep before he spoke.

Charles listened from the top of the stairs. He opened the door a crack and heard his father offering some non-committed, "yes," "I see," "I understand," "When?" There was a long pause and then he heard. "I'll be there then."

Charles could hear the click as his father returned the phone to the hook and his footsteps leaving the area. In a panic, Charles closed the door, ran right to his bed and closed the bedsheets over his body and face feigning a light slumber.  
>Will opened the door a crack and lightly tapped. "Charlie?" As he entered, he felt something cold brush against his toes. He looked down and saw that the ice pack lay on the floor. Will wryly picked it up. "I suppose there's no point in telling you since you probably heard everything, but I'm going to tell you anyway. They said that your mother passed her last evaluation and her behavior has improved and, well, they're going to release her. She'll be coming home!"<p>

Charles looked up stunned. He felt pale as though someone had slapped him. "Oh that's great," he said flatly.

"Well don't sound too excited about it," Will said dryly.

"No Dad," Charles said. "I'm really happy! I am, when?"

"Sunday," Will answered. "I'll come by to get her and I'll be taking her home!"

Charles recovered from the shock and then ran to his father delighted. He gave him a great big hug! "I can't wait to see her, Dad!"

"I know me too," Will said returning the held his son and told him, "Everything is fine." He wanted to believe it. He just had to. They laughed delighted, but Charles felt that his laugh was forced. As they cheered, he wondered, did he want his mother to come home or not?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Beyond Fixing

Charles lay out the fancy table cloth on the table just as his mother was going over her list. "Which of the crystal should I get out Mum?" Charles asked.

"Sorry," Emma asked. "Oh, the Waterford will be fine I suppose, darling. There should be six, let's see your father, me, Dr. Shockley, Mrs. Shockley, his nephew and his wife, I believe. Yes, six total so that should do fine." Charles nodded and was about to enter the kitchen when his mother called him back. "Charles, don't bother with any large dinner plates this is only meant to be appetizers and hors d'oeuvres just the small ones will do fine, The Doulton."

"I know, mum, you told me already," Charles reminded her as he fetched the items from the kitchen.

The door opened as Will entered the sitting room. David had his back turned to his father so he wasn't aware of his presence until he picked him up and gave him a big hug. The baby smiled upon seeing his daddy, as Will gave his infant son a kiss. He sat him back down. "Hello, David," he signed. The baby held up one palm in a gesture for hi.

Emma stood up and greeted her husband. "Hello, Will," she said signing as she spoke.

"You're getting better," Will smiled proudly.

"Well thanks to Charlie, I finally got over the 'how are you' incident," Emma said embarrassed.

"Come again?" Will asked intrigued.

"Well I was practicing with Charlie and David the other day at the shopping center and Charles and I met a couple of the other students. I couldn't remember the sign for how are you," Emma began haltingly. "So um well I did the first gesture that I could think of-"

"-What was it?" Will asked.

Emma blushed a deep crimson. "Tell him Charles."

Charles answered as he crossed his arms and held up the palm of his hand straight. "She signed 'how'like the American Indians in the old western pictures."

"Oh, I see," Will said amused but trying not to show it. "That must have been embarrassing." His voice turned brighter as he was tickled at the mental picture. He cleared his throat to keep from laughing. "I'm sorry."

Emma laughed herself. "Don't worry, it is rather funny and Dr. Sydney suggested that one of the things that I need to remember is to laugh at myself. Anyway, Charles corrected me on it and I don't think I have made too many mistakes since."

"Don't worry about it, Em," Will said. "You won't believe some of the words that we had trouble with. Still do, right Charlie?"

"I misspelled my name nearly every time that I tried to sign it," Charles added.

"And you are making progress," Will said. Charles agreed. "Soon to be a bilingual woman ladies and gentlemen." Emma blushed as her husband leaned over to kiss her. There was a difficult moment as he approached her but she leaned towards him as he kissed her quickly on the mouth.

It had been a month since Emma had returned from the hospital and while things were better than they had been before, Charles could tell that his parents were still uncomfortable around each other. They behaved in a friendly, but strained and cautious manner. They didn't want to hurt each other, but they appeared unsure of what to do to be closer. They were constantly walking tip-toe as if trying to avoid pulling that strain too far.

However, Emma had vastly improved. Her current medicine appeared to be working for her and her moods had come to be stabilized. She even was a full participant in the sign language courses though many steps behind her husband and son. She had even gotten to the point where when Will had suggested that they have a small dinner party for some of his colleagues, Emma heartily agreed and began to plan for the event.

Emma showed Will to the kitchen almost like a child on Christmas morning. "Come look at the hors d'ouevres and desserts that Mrs. Beckett prepared." Will followed her whistling with approval at the fruit kebabs, cheese balls with sociable crackers, canapes, crudites, deviled eggs. "My my I am impressed," Will said. "And the sitting room and kitchen look wonderful. You ladies outdid yourself."

Emma nodded. "Really, I can't take credit for it," Emma said. "Charles took care of that." She nodded at her son.

"Really," Will said glancing at his son.

"Well I offered," Charles said embarrassed. "Mum said it was alright."

"He grabbed the Hoover and worked away almost before I could get a yes out," Emma said. "He worked all afternoon on it, hoovering, sweeping, scrubbing, washing up, laying out the silver, everything. Really knocked himself out."

"Well then you outdid yourself," Will said with pride. Charles nodded slightly uncomfortable at the gratitude. "It all looks wonderful."

"Yes, I didn't have to do anything," Emma said her tone changing sounding uncertain and far-off.

"Well then here's my contribution to the festivities," Will said holding up a bag with two bottle as well as some other items." Gin, vermouth, lemon, olive; our guests will have the ingrediants for a perfect martini."

"Now you outdid yourself," Emma complimented. "Everyone did their part." Her face fell as she seemed to leave an unspoken thought purposely in the air as though she wanted to say "except me," but chose not to.

Will noticed the abrupt change in his wife's behavior and tried to hold onto her. She turned away. "I'd better get dressed. You need too as well. Charles remember what we talked about."

"Be near by if I'm needed, but stay out of sight and out of mind and look after my brother until called for," Charles repeated. Emma nodded as she headed towards the stairs.

Will followed her. "Emma, are you sure that you want to do this?" he asked.

"Yes, Will," Emma said. "I told you I did." She turned away again as her husband followed her.

"Because it's not too late," he said. "We can cancel the whole thing if you aren't ready-"

"Dammit, Will!" Emma half-shouted. "I'm fine! Quit pestering me!" The two stopped and stared for a minute. Charles glanced over towards the sitting room keeping an eye on David, but another one on his tense parents. Emma spoke again very slowly. "Now let's get ready and get this over with, shall we?"

Charles mixed drinks for the adults inside the shaker and poured them in martini glasses. He then put olives in some and lemons in the others and served them on a tray to the laughing adults.

"Ah, the littlest pubtender," said Will's colleague, Dr. Adam Penny. He accepted the drink and smiled at his young wife, Heather, a pretty dark haired woman who continuously laughed.

"Thank you darling," Heather cooed to Charles as she accepted the drink, smiling "The Clangers Smile."

"You're welcome Mrs. Penny," Charles said as he walked over to the older couple, Adam's uncle and one of Will's supervisors, Dr. James Shockley and his wife, Eleanor. They both offered thanks. He then served his parents.

"Such a polite boy of yours" Eleanor Shockley, an elderly gray haired woman said, returning The Clangers look right back at Heather.

Charles blushed embarrassed feeling slightly like an animal at the zoo being stared at from behind a cage. He at first was silent, until his mother prompted him. "What do we say, Charlie?"

"Thank you madam," Charles responded with a bow. He stepped back and out of the sitting room.

"It's so rare with children these days," Dr. Shockley said. "To have such an obedient quiet child like that. None of this permissive attitude that modern parents are so fond of these days. In my day, we had spare the rod and spoil the child."

"Oh, Charles is not spoiled," Will said trying to maintain a sense of humor, but also defending his upbringing of his son. Shockley nodded obviously not understanding the irony in his colleague's statement. "As far as dear uncle is concerned, parenthood went completely out the window ever since Dr. Spock came in vogue," Adam said.

"I don't approve of such tactics in bringing up a child," Dr. Shockley continued to rant. Adam rolled his eyes in a bored expression that indicated he heard it before. "All of this nurturing nonsense, it will lead to anarchy and this Spock fellow questioning his leaders in America over the War creating dissension. That will only create more permissiveness within children these days."

"Well for once Uncle you and I are in agreement," Dr. Penny answered."If the war were in our country, I would gladly serve as a medic." Heather and Elanor nodded fervently. Adam turned to Will. "How about you Will, would you do your bit if you were told to serve?"

Will and Emma exchanged tense glances. They both remembered a disagreement between them in which Will was very vocal against America's involvement in Vietnam. Emma however laughed and said that it shouldn't matter since they were neither Americans, nor Vietnamese and what difference did it make to them. Will hesitated. "Well I suppose if called, I would do my duty, with reservation."

"Well I hope our children," Heather turned to Adam and laughed. "If we have any of course, will not have to fight in such battles. They seem awfully gruesome."

"You have no idea," Will muttered quietly to himself as he drank.

"What was that, Carton?" Dr. Shockley asked.

"Nothing sir," Will answered.

Adam snorted. "Not children again. I swear Heather that's all you think about. We've been married a year and already she's seeing bassinets, prams, and nurseries."

"I think it's wonderful for a woman to prepare for such an event," Eleanor said.

"Thank you, Mrs. Shockley," Heather said jovially at the prospect of having an ally. "I am looking forward to this blessed joyous time, isn't it?" She asked the two older woman.

Eleanor nodded but Emma was silent for a few minutes. "So I am told that it is," she said flatly.

"Well I have been doing enough reading and planning so if we do have children, we are prepared for any eventuality," Heather said defensively. "I wouldn't want to be hit with any surprises like our future son has some terminal illness or our future daughter has some physical deformity like being, I don't know, blind or de-" She stared dumbstruck in horror at what she was about to say. She glanced over at Will and Emma, their faces like stone"-athly ill." She drank again. "It would be awful."

"It is," Emma rejoined but then quickly added. "For some people."

Dr. Shockley then turned to both younger couples and on his tirade. "You young people these days don't know how good that you have it. We had to work for our money. I fought in the Pacific during the War when I was 18 years old and worked my way through medical school, sometimes went to bed hungry."

"Really uncle did you do all of this inside the hospital that Grandfather bank rolled under his name?" Adam dryly asked puncturing his Uncle's hard luck stories. Will and the women all were too polite to laugh out loud, but their expression conveyed definite amusement.

"Don't be impertenent," he pointed to his nephew. "This is what I mean, I would never have gotten away with talking back to my elders in that fashion. Speak until you are spoken to that's the motto."

"Which worked wonders for our children," Eleanor dryly added. "Our youngest intends to take the next term off to travel can you imagine. She wants to go to India-"

"-Amongst the curry munchers?" Adam questioned in shock.

"Apparently she thinks the experience would be Enlightening," Eleanor shuddered at the word.

"She has been listening to that fellow Marajah something or rather," Dr. Shockley agreed. "A con artist if you ask me."

"Maharishi Mahesh Yogi," Emma corrected. "My ins-well a friend or rather an acquaintance of mine knew him in India. She says that he is a truly spiritual great man."

"A criminal if you ask me," Eleanor responded in a tone that indicated she was going to give her opinion regardless of whether anyone asked or not. "You would have to be mad to listen-" She stopped and bit her tongue glancing at Emma. "Oh I am truly sorry, Emma."

Emma shook her head unsure if the older woman knew of her hospitalization or could feel Emma's respect for the Yogi and thought that was a symptom of madness in and of itself. "No, no, it's alright," Emma said in a forced tone.

"It could be worse for your daughter," Adam said. "She could want to go among the kaffirs." Heather, Eleanor, and Adam nodded. "You used to live in South Africa didn't you Will?"

"Yes, Will answered shortly.

"I didn't know that," Heather said. "What was that like?"

Will gripped his glass so tightly that his knuckles were white. He was silent for a few minutes, until Emma spoke. "Oh Will doesn't talk about South Africa. It is a verboten subject."

Will glanced narrowly at his wife. He could have said a whole lot. "Not much to tell really. I lived there for some years, my father died there, and I moved up here to begin medical training."

"Now who is that bloke that's in prison keeps sending letters criticizing his government, Mengele?" Adam asked.

"Mandela, Nelson Mandela," Will corrected.

"If being in prison would have taught them it's that you should not criticize," Adam suggested with a loud laugh.

"He'll probably be dead before they release him," Dr. Shockley agreed. "And good riddance, no government can survive when there are dissenters." He nodded to the younger doctors for confirmation.

"Hear hear," Adam agreed. Will held up his glass but didn't speak. Adam looked down at his glass. "I'm starting to run low. Does your little pubtender mix only one martini at a time?"

"I'll get him," Will offered. "Does anyone else want one?" He received four other affirmatives.

Charles was in David's bedroom reading aloud and signing from a book of Baby's First Signs. David was half watching and participating and half playing with a few toys in front of him. Charles rolled a small blue ball in front of the infant as he rolled it back. "This is the sky, it is blue," Charles said. On one side of the picture, a drawing showed a beautiful blue sky and on the other it showed the hand gestures for sky and blue. David held his tiny hands up.

"Very good, Davey," Charles said delighted. He then turned the page. "This is a family," he said. "Here is mother, father, brother and sister-well I don't suppose you will need to know that one," Charles laughed. He repeated the signs to his little brother. "Father." David repeated him. "Brother." Once again a successful repetition. "Mother." David hesitated for a moment and looked at his hands confused. "I see, you don't use that one often do you?" Charles said, this time not signing the words. "I think we've done enough practicing, haven't we?" He set the book aside.

There was an uncomfortable moment as Charles picked up his brother's teddy bear. "Here, you want Bear-Bear?" He asked. David nodded and smiled. "Here's he coming your way," Charles held the stuffed animal towards his brother and then pulled him away. David reached for the bear, but Charles held it to his face. "Oh no, he has me, ahhh," He pretended to lie down on the floor. He was silent until David crawled to his side. Charles sprang up and tickled his brother across the neck. The baby laughed. "You'll have to face the Tickle Monster to get Bear-Bear, Ha ha ha," he mimicked an evil diabolical laugh as his brother giggled. Finally, Charles handed the teddy bear to his brother and held him in the rocking chair, back and forth, back and forth as his little eyes began to get droopy. Charles yawned feeling a bit sleepy and exhausted from the housework that he did for his mother. He slapped himself to keep awake remembering that he still had some schoolwork to do since tomorrow was Friday.

There was a soft tap on the door as his father entered. He smiled as he glanced at his sons. "Charles," he said slowly. "How's he doing?"

"He's starting to fall asleep," Charles said.

"Very good," Will nodded. "You are a great help. You know, I appreciate all the work you do around here."

Charles shrugged. "I know, thank you Dad."

"Here, why don't I put him to sleep while you go help your mother in the sitting room?" Will suggested.

Charles nodded and carefully removed his baby brother from his arms and stepped aside as his father sat in the rocking chair to hold his infant son.

Charles and Will returned to the sitting room as the conversation returned to India and the Shockleys' daughter's impending trip."I think travel could only broaden our childrens' minds," Eleanor said. "But to such a barbaric place so desolate and unclean."

Charles made and poured drinks for the guests as Emma spoke feeling very uncomfortable at this discussion. "Actually, it isn't. It's a beautiful place, very spiritual." The others looked at her. "Um, from what I have been told. I aim to go there myself one day."

"With the Marajah or whatever his name is banging on one of those drums," Adam said then proceeded to do clap his hands and do a bad impression of a Hare Krishna.

"Oh Emma's too smart for something like that," Will laughed loudly as Charles poured his father's drink."Even if she fell for that, I would set her straight."

Emma glared at her husband. "No, I wouldn't do that. Apparently, Will would prefer that I stay home and watch my son, who is a freak."

There was a tense silence as Charles said quietly but fiercely holding onto the drink that he was about to serve his mother. "He's not a freak, mum."

The silence grew as the other two couples stood stone faced embarrassed for the couple. Emma once again laughed tensely. "Of course, I'm sorry I take that back, he's an idiot."

"HE's NOT AN IDIOT!" Charles yelled in his fury dropping the martini glass that he was holding for her. It shattered onto the rug below as the alcohol spilled, a small imperfect stain on a white rug.

Emma forcefully grabbed her son's arm and slapped him with a stinging blow. "You'll have to excuse my children, one son can't speak and the other one doesn't know when to shut up!" She dug her nails into his arm and slapped him again.

"Emma that's enough!," Will roared. He pulled his wife away from his son.

The air was a tense silence as Adam looked at his watch. "Well look at the time," he said. "I suppose that we should be going."

"Yes maybe you should," Emma countered. "First smart thing that you said all day."

"Emma hush," Will ordered through clenched teeth as the Shockleys rose.

"Yes we must leave as well," Dr. Shockley said.

"I'll see you out," Will said tense as he helped the couples with their coats. Shockley pulled Will aside in a between us guys demeanour.

"Carton, if you want my advice, you should maintain some semblance of control over your family," he said. "No home can function if the man is not master of his house."

"I am doing my best sir," Will answered.

"Well this histrionic behavior from your impertinent son and hysterical wife would suggest otherwise," Shockley said. "What they need is structure, what they need is discipline-"

The scales fell from Will's eyes. All evening he had been trying to please these people and knew that it was impossible. "What they need is their husband and father!" He said.

"Apparently, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Shockley muttered.

"Let me tell you something Dr. Shockley" Will spoke loud enough for all of the guests to hear. "First, don't insult my wife and son in front of me and not expect me to respond. Second, Dr. Penny I would kindly appreciate that you do not use such terms that you used when my son could be in earshot. I have reared him to treat people of all races with respect, something that you obviously never learned. Third, this whole blasted evening is over, good night!" He opened the door for the couples as they walked out. He just about saw them to the door when Will held it open again. "One more thing Nelson Mandela is a brilliant man and his release could only be better for South Africa!" He then slammed the door with some triumph and relieved to get that off his chest.

Will approached the sitting room with a stride hoping that Emma had overheard their argument and would come sweeping into his arms about what a hero her husband was for defending her. Instead, his wife sat in one of the chairs with her arms folded watching her son like a hawk as he put away the martini glasses onto a tray.

"You don't have to clean up, Charles," Will said.

"Mum said I did," Charles said not looking up at his father instead downward like a servant humbling himself before his master.

"He's being punished," Emma agreed.

"For what defending David?" Will challenged as Charles entered the kitchen.

"For talking back and embarrassing me," Emma said.

"Because you insulted his brother," Will pointed at her.

"Because you humiliated me," Emma yelled back.

Charles returned with a wet sponge and dust pan. He gathered up the shards of the glass and dabbed at the stain with a sponge.

Will knelt down. "Charles really you don't have to," he said at the same time, Charles pushed his father's hand away from him determined to fix this mess. "FUCK IT CHARLES!" Will shouted. Charles drew back surprised. He was used to his mother yelling at him but not his father. His eyes watered as Will caught his breath. Emma too was silent and she stood up and turned away from the scene. Will calmed down. "I'm sorry, Charles, I will take care of it. Go to bed, you have school tomorrow." Charles turned towards his mother who had her back turned. Since he found no argument from her, he rose from his position. "Charles, try not to oversleep alright?" Will asked. The boy nodded and was about to wish his parents good-night, but instead ran up to his room rather than remain in the tense scene.

Will and Emma were alone in the sitting room as Will cleaned up the remains of the mess. He threw the glass shards from the martini, washed up the glasses and returned to see his wife still looking outside with a far away look in her eyes. "It won't work, Will," Emma said.

"Sure it will," he answered. "We only lost one glass tonight. The rest are still intact."

"I'm talking about us," Emma said staring at her husband. She once again stared into space with that far away look. When she spoke, she had a tone that Will didn't recognize in his wife. "We're still the same people, we always will be."

Will shrugged. "I know, we keep having the same arguments. But, we can learn from them. This was too big a step for you. We should never have had a party this early and especially not with people like that. I know Adam Penny can push a few buttons, so we'll never invite him again. I wouldn't have even allowed him this time, but Dr. Shockley insisted."

Emma shook her head. "No, Will, if it hadn't been tonight, it would have been something else some other time. We have been too distant for far too long."  
>She looked around her house as if seeing it for the first time. "When I was in hospital, in our sessions they kept asking me 'who are you' and 'what do you want to do when you get out,' and I didn't know how to answer. I couldn't say anything because I didn't know who I was." She started to cry.<p>

Will reached over to touch his wife's shoulder but she turned away. "You're my wife and you're Charles and David's mother isn't that enough?"

Emma dried her eyes. "Is it?" She sighed. "Will I'm terrible with you and the boys. I lose my temper easily. I'm too critical. I throw tantrums when I don't get my way and David, how can I be a good mother to him when I'm a terrible one to Charlie? He needs so much more extra attention and I'm not the person who can give it to him. You're much better than I am. Let's face it these boys do have a good mother, and-"She glanced at her husband. "-he isn't me."

"Emma," Will said ignoring her compliment. "These are problems that can be fixed. We can go in for marriage counseling, maybe have Mrs. Beckett come in more times-"

Emma shook her head. "No, those are temporary solutions to a problem that is beyond fixing. Will, you can't save everybody and everything and you can't save our marriage. You shouldn't have to."

Will had tears in his eyes. He didn't want to know the outcome. "I don't understand, Emma, whatever you want tell me and I will do it."

Emma took a deep breath. "Then let me go." She said. "I'm leaving you, Will."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: And Then There Were Three

Charles opened his eyes focusing on the sun through his window. It seemed brighter than it usually was about this time. He turned his head slowly to the clock next to him and started. 9:30! He was usually up way before this for school. Could it be Saturday and he lost track of the days? He went over the days in his head. No, he was pretty sure that it was Friday. He leaped out of bed, practically throwing his school clothes on his body. He ran through his room stubbing his toe on the bed post as he looked around for his shoes. He felt under the bed for one shoe. Where could the other be? He pushed it on the wrong foot, but jetted downstairs. He was certain that he must not have been listening when his dad called him to get up. "Sorry, Dad, I guess I didn't hear you," he said breathlessly. "But, I couldn't find my other shoe." He ran through the sitting room as he stepped on something. He looked down to see the shoe under his foot. "There it is," he said. "How did it get there?" He must have left it after his parent's party.

"Charles, I have told you time and again to put your shoes away in your bedroom so you will find them the next day," Will said, but his voice was toneless and quiet. Charles saw his father slowly get up from the sofa, as though it required great effort to move. He realized that his dad was wearing his bathrobe over his nightclothes. He must have slept in the sitting room. The martini glasses and trays had been removed and everything had been cleaned as if it never was. The only evidence of last night's party was the faded stain on the rug.

Will faced his son and opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. He cleared his throat and tried to speak again but his voice wavered like he was fighting off emotion. "I'm sorry, I um, didn't wake you. I had a very bad night," he said. "I'll ring your teachers if you like. I have to go and make breakfast." He slumped into the kitchen in a way Charles had never seen from his father, slow, mournful, dejected. Something must have happened during the night.

Charles followed his father. Will stood slumped over the small cooker. "Eggs and bacon alright?" he asked. Charles nodded as his father quickly turned his head again, but not quick enough for Charles to see that his face was red and his lips were quivering. Were there also tears in his eyes? His father never cried! He stood over the oven for several minutes not moving or looking at his son, just silent.

Charles was instantly worried and frightened. The room suddenly seemed tense, alien, and unfamiliar to him. He walked closer to his father. "Dad, what's wrong?" he asked. "Did something happen to David?" He felt a lump in his throat not wanting to imagine what it could be. He was only slightly relieved when his dad shook his head.

"Mum?" Charles asked. His father looked at his son squarely and Charles didn't need to see him nod to know he was right. "Is she in hospital again?" Charles said picking the most likely and most hopeful scenario. At least if she were in hospital she wasn't well-where Charles was afraid she was.

"No, Charlie," Will said. He glanced at the oven as if deciding not to have breakfast just yet. "Charles why don't you sit at the table and we'll talk over breakfast, right?" Charles nodded and waited.

Within a few minutes, Will carried in two plates of bacon and eggs. He handed one plate to Charles and kept another for himself. Then he poured two glasses of orange juice. Despite the delightful meal, both only picked at their food. They were locked in their emotions, Charles because of fear and Will because of some sadness that his son was aware of but didn't understand. Charles put his fork down. "Dad, what's wrong, really? What happened to Mum?"

Will lay his fork down and put his hand on his mouth in deep thought."Well you know that we hadn't been getting on, even when she came back from hospital. It's been uncomfortable between us for a long time. Last night, we came to a decision, well that is your mother and I-my God-how do I say this?"

"-You're getting a divorce," Charles guessed. He felt hollow and cold inside. He should be crying. He should be shouting or something. But he couldn't feel anything.

"Not quite," Will answered. "At least I don't know."

"How can you not know?" Charles questioned.

"I mean, your mother moved out last night," he said. "She decided that she didn't want to live with us any longer."

Once again Charles felt ice cold. "Where is she going to live? Will we see her? It's just a separation right?"

Will shook his head. "I don't know, Charlie, she didn't tell me and I don't know when we will see her again. I guess she wants to be by herself for awhile."

Charles didn't speak so his father continued to talk. "Nothing's changed between us. You and your brother are still going to live here with me and you'll still go to the same school and it will be just like before when your mum was in the hospital. We'll carry on as we always do." He said with forced cheerfulness. Charles stood up as his father spoke. "We're fine. We will manage. Everything is fine."

Charles walked rose from the chair and moved from the kitchen almost in a trance. "Charlie, would you like me to ring the school and tell them you won't be coming in today?"

The boy stopped for a minute. "No, I want to go." He said. He then slowly walked into the sitting room where his shoe lay. He picked it up and held onto it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the cabinet where his mum had kept all of her glass objects; antique vases, porcelain figurines, small little knick knacks that she bought at various stores. Charles remembered the many times where it fell to him to dust and clean them until they sparkled. He walked slowly over to them and pulled open the catch. What was going to happen to them now? Would he still have to take care of them or would they sell them? He picked one up, a small figurine of a little girl in a pink shepherdess outfit and absently bounced it on his hand. Maybe they could send them to her, wherever she was going, or maybe she would come back as if nothing had happened. Charles warily put the figurine back on the stand but accidentally leaned it too close to the edge where it fell to the floor and shattered.

The falling figure broke Charles out of his trance and he tensed expecting his Mum to run to his side yelling at him. The young boy winced and cowered in anticipation, but then he remembered, she wasn't going to yell at him anymore. She was gone. She wasn't coming back, maybe never. All of the dusting that he did for the figures. All of the killing himself cleaning the entire house. All of the babysitting and interpreting for David that he did, none of it mattered to his mother! He looked at the figures with a grin.

Charles straightened up and then picked up another figure, a small glass bell. He rang it at first softly then shook it hard and dropped it on purpose. "She's not here! She don't care!" He yelled. He then picked up a vase and dropped this one to. "It doesn't matter what I do to them! She's not around to say!" He yelled as he dropped another item and then another"I'm glad you're gone, you old cow!" He then dropped a few more in triumph feeling like a soldier who was mercilessly beating his enemies in war.

When Will heard the first object drop, he barely reacted. If it were Charles being his usual clumsy self, he would go in later and clean it up. The poor boy was probably so distracted with the news that he wasn't watching where he was going. He looked around the kitchen trying to find something to do, when he tried to force himself to read the Daily Telegraph. He then heard the next crash and then another. He became alarmed and ran to the sitting room where he saw his son. ""I hate you!" Charles yelled as he broke several more items. "You can go to hell for all I care! I hate you you bitch, I hate you!"

Will ran to his son and grabbed his shoulders."Charles," he said as he shook his son. A bottle had fallen from the boy's hands on the floor with all the other shards. Charles sank down onto the floor exhausted, his hands and knees getting cut from the shards.

He looked up at his father seeing him for the first time. "It didn't matter how good I took care of them, or the house, or David, nothing mattered to her!" He sobbed in his father's arms like a small child. "I don't matter to her or to anyone!"

"Shh, that's not true," Will assured him. "That is not a bit true. You certainly matter a great deal to your brother and me." He then slowly led his son away from the massacre and bandaged his hands and knees and led him upstairs. He then rang both his school and the hospital telling them that they were both taking a personal day and cleaned up the messes in the kitchen and sitting room.

A few times Will tried to go into Charles' room to talk to him, but the boy was always asleep, avoiding him. He let him sleep, hoping that eventually his son would be ready to talk to him. He looked in on him a few times, but he was so still and silent in his bed, that he didn't want to disturb him. He wanted his boy to open up and not swallow his anger. He was so worried about another outburst, but he also knew that he couldn't push Charles to speak and that he would when he was ready.

Charles lay in his bed. He didn't really sleep, but he didn't feel like moving either. He just lay still exhausted with the rage and numb from other emotions. If I get out of this bed, everything will be like before, he said. No not like before, everything will be better than before. Mummy will be home and not ill. Dad will still be Dad. And David, David will hear and everything will be perfect. The boy felt his lip quiver, but tears could not come. He couldn't break from the shell he put around himself. A few times his dad tried to get his attention, but Charles just ignored him so caught up in his grief.

He continued to lay until he felt his stomach growl. He didn't realize how long he slept until he glanced out his bedroom window and saw that it was evening. He also heard music coming from downstairs. An unmistakeable beat of The Beatles' "The Long and Winding Road," Great, Charles thought bitterly, why don't I just stab myself in the heart and feel better? Charles slowly walked downstairs.

His father was seated on the floor his long legs spread out near a blanket with several baby toys. He had picked up a multi-colored rattle and tapped David on the shoulder. David grinned at the rattle as the colors swirled. He then picked up the rattle and almost put it in his mouth when his Dad laughed and removed it shaking his finger and signing no, with an emphatic shake of his head and returning the rattle as David looked at then put the pacifier in David's mouth. Even though David moved around, Charles saw that he didn't stray too far from the speaker that was seated on the floor next to him. He dropped the rattle and moved closer putting his tiny hands on the speaker and just sat there through the song as though mezmerized.

Will looked up as his older son walked down the stairs. "So, you're up finally."

Charles nodded and sat on the floor next to his father and brother. He nodded at David as the song on the Let it Be album changed over to "For You Blue" "What's he doing?" Charles asked pointing at David.

"Well remember in class when we talked about how deaf people can feel vibrations in music?" Will asked. Charles nodded. "I suppose that's what he's doing. I noticed it by accident myself several days ago once when I was home and playing some records. David just crawled over and sat next to the speaker. Just sat there, through the album and then the next one. I've been playing music for him ever since. Haven't I Little Man?" He said emphatically tickling the infant who let out one of his characteristic laughs.

Charles felt a slight stab of envy that David shared something with his father that he knew nothing about but just as quickly let it go. "He just sits there?" Charles asked.

Will nodded. "Sometimes through several albums. He even has his favorites. Of course The Beatles, and their solo stuff. Like father like son, eh? He seems to like some of the Stones, The Doors, and The Animals. He gets a bit confused by Dylan, though I suppose the mumbling is harder to understand through vibrations. Enjoys Motown, sort of almost dances to them. He relaxes through things like Carole King and James Taylor though sometimes The Carpenters make him fall asleep. A bit disturbed by Gary Glitter, though I don't blame him for that." Charles giggled but then he remembered, how could he laugh during a time like this? He sighed and lowered his head dejected. "You're not here to talk about your brother are you?" Will asked slowly.

Charles looked at his feet feeling like he was going to cry again. "I was hoping that it was a dream what you said. I thought that if I came out of bed, then it wouldn't be true and I just imagined it. But I didn't did I?" Will sadly shook his head. "She's gone isn't she?" Will nodded. "Is she gone forever?"

Will shrugged. "To be honest, Charlie, I don't know. I don't know if she ever will come back, or what will happen next. We just have to take it one step at a time, just like everything else that's come along." He nodded at David. "Just like with how we managed with David."

"It's my fault," Charles said his eyes filling. He wanted to unburden the feelings that he kept inside his chest for so long.

"Charles your mother and I had a lot of problems-" Will began but Charles shook his head.

"Not just that, but everyhing is my fault, everything even David being- the way he is," Charles said. "Everything!" He started crying again.

"Charles your brother's condition had nothing to do with you," Will said almost laughing at the preposterous notion. "It just happened."

"No, you don't understand, it really is my fault," Charles replied. Will looked confused at his son but Charles continued. "I remember Dr. Givens telling you that David might be deaf because Mum took drugs and alcohol. You see while Mum was pregnant one day I saw her taking some pills with one of her bottles. I remember from health class, our teacher saying that pregnant women shouldn't drink or take certain medicines because it could make the baby come out all funny so I said to her 'Mum, I don't think you should be doing that' and Mum said-she said-" Charles couldn't continue.

Will nodded rubbing his son's shoulder. "Go ahead Charlie, you can tell me what she said."

Charles continued. "She told me to 'Mind my own fucking business!' and she slapped me so hard my glasses fell off. So, I didn't say anything more, even though I knew she had taken them. I didn't say anything, because she needed me to look after her and even after David was born and we found out- I still didn't say anything! I was supposed to look after her and look what happened! And now she moved away because I didn't do a good enough job!"

Charles sobbed into his father's arms as Will's heart sank. What his son said explained so much, particularly how protective the boy was of his infant brother and his mother. He wanted to take care of them, because he felt that he failed them. Will rocked his son as though he were a baby himself. "My boy, my poor little boy," he said soothingly to him. "I had no idea. You listen to me, you are 10 years old! It is not your job to take care of your mother and your brother. Your only job is to be a kid!" He sighed realizing that he too had contribued to these feelings. "Perhaps I too have been relying on you too much expecting so much from you and in my own way forcing responsibility on you. I am so sorry. I never realized what it could do."

"You needed me to help you out," Charles said.

Will nodded. "Yes, I have. But I've been treating you like another adult, another parent, expecting you to take on all of these burdens, and have been ignoring your needs. I've been forgetting that you need my attention too. I haven't been treating you like a kid, who needs to be cared for and loved." He kissed the top of his son's forehead and whispered. "And you are loved very much."

"That's alright Dad," Charles said. "But it still doesn't take away the fact that I caused David's deafness."

Will shook his head. "Charles, there could be a number of reasons why David is deaf. What your mother took is only one of the possibilities and besides it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that he is. Now we could blame ourselves for it, or your mother all day, but there comes a time when we have to stop blaming people and just move on with what we have been given. Your brother is a wonderful boy and he would be that even if he weren't deaf. It's just a part of him, just like his curly hair or your knobby knees and near-sightedness are a part of you. But it's not all of him. The all of David is that he is a brilliant wee boy with a sweet smile who is friendly, bright, outgoing, obviously loves music and colors and his big brother."

"And mum?" Charles said. "Why did she go?"

"Your mum had to do what was right for her," Will said. "Sometimes when two people love each other as we did, you try and try to work on your problems but the more you try the worse they get. I think that she wanted to make things work, she really did. Being a wife and mother was all she knew how to be, so I don't think that she came to this decision lightly, but she knew that her and I could never be happy with each other, not the way we were when we first married. She just was unhappy, not at you, but with everything around her, and the more she tried the unhappier she got. Sometimes when two people are unhappy together, the best that they can do is be apart."

"Maybe then she can be happier even if she isn't with us," Charles said.

Will nodded. " What I told her to. It's something that I have to work through. Maybe like you, I thought that I was supposed to take care of her, protect her, perhaps then I could fix her. But she didn't want to be fixed, at least not by me. She needs to find her own path and I have to learn to let her go. We both do."

Charles cried soft tears. "Do I have to let her go now?" he asked.

Will smiled and laughed. "No take as much time as you need." He held his son tightly as David toddled over to his father and brother, the B side to Let It Be over. Will moved his fingers up and down the baby's stomach as the little boy laughed. "I think that things will be different from now on."

"It will be just you looking after us," Charles said. "What's going to happen? Are you going to work as much? Will Mrs. Becket still come? Do I need to look after David? I can't cook that well! What if he gets sick again and you're not there?"

Will shook his head. "Charles calm down, as I said before we will take it one step at a time. We will still have Mrs. Becket and even if we don't, we'll find someone to help us out. I will see if I can work during the day while you're in school or at night when you're asleep and be on call only on occasion. I still may require your services as a baby sitter every now and again but I will try not to do it too often. Anyway, we still have plenty of time and don't worry so. You lean on me, not the other way around got it? Just know it's alright."

"No it isn't," Charles objected.

"No it isn't now," Will said agreeing with him. "It's not alright, but it will be because we'll work towards making it that way." There was a long silence as Will held onto Charles. David tapped his father on the knee as if to get his attention. Will jokingly removed his son's hand. David tapped his father's knee again, this time more insistent. Will looked up and laughed."Oh the record's over." He signed to David. "I know what you want me to play."

David smiled as his father gently removed himself from his son's grasp and stood up. He opened the cabinet which contained his record collection and pulled out a 33 LP, a Bing Crosby Christmas record. "Let's see it's too early for Christmas." He pulled out David Bowie's Space Oddity. "This one?" A look of disappointment crossed his infant son's face. Will then pulled out another one: Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits. "This one? Well if you insist." He was about to take it out of the sleeve when David shook his head and pointed at one end of the cabinet. Will signed and put his hand to his mouth pretending to be in deep concentration. "Well I can't imagine what you want me to play, except-" He then took out another record, Stevie Wonder's Talking Book. "Is it this one?" David's face lit up and he grinned at the two boys as he put the record on the turntable and placed the needle on the edge. He turned to the boys right before the song came up. He signed. "This one is your favorite," to David.

The opening music to "You are the Sunshine of My Life" began as David crawled to the stereo. Will sat next to Charles as he hummed the music to Stevie Wonder, another of Will's favorite singers. Charles leaned on his father's shoulder as Will scooped David up in his large arms and held him in his lap. The infant faced his father and put his tiny hands delicately on his father's throat feeling the vibrations on his throat as Will sang along. Charles smiled nostalgically remembering when he was little his dad sang "And I Love Her" changing the lyrics to "And I Love Him" to fit his then small son. "Dad," Charles asked his voice small. "Can we listen to A Hard Day's Night after Talking Book is over?" he asked.

"Of course we can," Will said as he wrapped one arm around his older son's shoulder and hugged his infant son closer to his lap. "Of course we can." He then sang changing the lyrics only slightly, as he and his sons held each other tightly. "You are the sunshines of my life/That's why I'll always be around/You are the apples of my eyes/Forever you'll stay in my heart..."

The End


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